


Falling for It

by tisfan



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky 2016/2017 [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky is pining, M/M, Practical Jokes, Pranks, Tony is oblivious, accidental nudity, bruce is not someone you should play jokes on, natasha is dangerous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9323366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Imagine Tony and Bucky blog Anonymous asks: Hi! Imagine Bucky combining his humor and protectiveness in pranks to get Tony's attention. He's initially indirect because he's new, but he's emboldened gradually! Nothing mean or destructive, just little surprises that are actually gifts or attention. Tony pranks back, but each action hides another goal, to give Bucky opportunities to bond with the Avengers (because he's a genius like that). Extra love for progressively overt flirting to smut. And supportive borderline embarrassed friends





	

**Author's Note:**

> Combined with
> 
> Open prompt from tisfan's asks: Word Prompt: seal, landscape, candle. Preferably fluffy.

No one ever knew who started them. Or, at least, no one ever admitted it. 

But living in a Tower full of people who were sneaky, smart, adrenaline junkies, and for all practical purposes, as crazy as a box of bees, pranks were, honestly, inevitable. 

Tony stared down at the flooded mess of his bedroom. Again. This time, someone had gotten creative with the water. The way the doors **seal** ed in the Tower, sliding into hollows in the wall, the old bucket over the door trick didn’t work. They’d gone to a lot of work to fill about forty red solo cups with water and taped them into place over the opening. When the door slid open, they all tipped and Tony got a second shower. 

Tony took his glasses off -- spotted and he couldn’t see anyway -- and rubbed one hand down his face. “Friday,” he said, trying to keep his temper. “Who was it?” 

“I’m sorry, boss,” Friday said, “but I’m afraid I’m sworn to secrecy in some cases. If I reveal the perpetrator in this particular prank, I might have to mention that the elevator filling with shaving cream was --” 

“Okay, okay, Hal, I get the picture,” Tony said, holding up one hand. How was he supposed to know Natasha was going on a date that night -- with someone who wasn’t even an Avenger -- when the elevator had suddenly filled up with menthol-scented shaving cream? Nat’s dress had been ruined, her date had been extremely unamused and Tony had listened to Nat threaten to kill any and everyone. (She hadn’t, but since she didn’t know who’d done that one, she’d pretty much pranked everyone, one at a time, for the rest of the month, to hilarious, embarrassing, and somewhat painful results. The guy never came back for a second date, and if Nat knew who’d done that to her, she’d probably spend the next month just sabotaging _Tony_.) 

That… however, did narrow down the options. Could have been Nat, but it wasn’t really her style. Nat’s pranks tended more toward public embarrassment or weirdly sexual things. (The time she’d managed to sneak a joybuzzer into the tasset of his armor that had sent buzzes up his thigh and right into his balls during a fight with Doombots came to mind readily as being both publically embarrassing _and_ weirdly sexual.) 

Might have been Clint -- he’d done the water thing, more than once, really, but it was a classic, and therefore, classic Clint. And also, he was 1) more likely to rat Tony out to Natasha and 2) was absolutely capable of getting into the penthouse without Tony being aware of it. 

Steve? Probably not. Not that Steve couldn’t give as well as he got, but he was weirdly ethical about the whole thing, and he never, ever started it. If he was dousing Tony in cold water (and FUCK, there’d been ice in those cups, too, so it was very cold) it was because Tony had done something provable to him, first. Which, far as he could remember, he hadn’t. (That didn’t necessarily mean anything, though, sometimes Tony’s pranks were so elaborate and stealthy that it took a while before someone triggered them.) 

Not Sam, either. Sam couldn’t get into the penthouse without help, and this prank was too simple for a team effort. 

Wanda didn’t do pranks, and if you liked your brain unmolested, it was unwise to prank her. She was still kinda in mourning for her brother, so, that was understandable. When your whole world changed, the last thing you wanted was to be on the lookout for a cardboard standup in your bathroom. 

And not Thor, because Thor loved pranks -- they put him in mind of his brother -- and he always, always wanted to be around for the messy aftermath. So, if it had been Thor, the man himself would have been sitting in the living room, laughing, and offering him a towel. 

Unlikely to be Bucky Barnes, either. As a new resident to the Tower (and dealing with all sorts of emotional issues and rumored to have a violent streak a mile wide) he’d been left to his own devices as much as possible. You know, with the exception of having to be in massive therapy, which was a condition for Tony to let Steve bring him to the Tower in the first place. 

So… probably Clint. 

Tony stripped out of his wet clothes, cleaned up the pool of water around the door, took down all the cups (73 of them, Jesus Christ!) and plotted revenge. 

* * *

 

Natasha turned around and almost choked on her tea. 

“Good look for you, Hawkeye,” she said. 

“Shut up,” Clint said, “unless you have something awesome I can do to Tony for this.” He made a gesture at his hair (blue) and his face (also blue, but streaking) and his hands (very, very blue). 

“Oh, gosh,” Steve said, stopping dead as he walked into the kitchen. “What happened to you?” 

“Kool-aid mix in my shower head,” Clint said. “I am going to get him for this. Just you wait.” 

Natasha smiled, slow and evil. “Let him sweat it for a while,” she suggested. 

* * *

 

The glitter bomb on the visor of Tony’s car was ingenious, really. He’d dropped the visor to leave the parking stub and poof. Glitter. _Everywhere_. In his hair. Stuck to his eyelashes. All over his suit. Inside his shoes. On his teeth, for fuck’s sake. 

And the timing… he managed to brush off quite a bit of it, but on his live appearance for the Jimmy Fallon show, he still looked like a fucking Twilight vampire on national television. 

* * *

 

“Really,” Steve said. 

That was all. Just, “really,” in that Captain America is disappointed in you voice. 

Bucky nudged Steve aside. “What?” 

Everything. Literally, everything, in the fridge, had googly eyes on it. The milk was staring at them. Every single egg looked positively terrified. Tupperware containers looked like they were having an alcoholics anonymous meeting. 

“Tony,” Steve said, disgusted. 

“I think it’s kinda cute,” Bucky said, picking up the orange juice and tipping the bottle from side to side, making the OJ roll its eyes.

 Steve sighed. “Yeah, but this won’t be all of it. We have evidence here that Tony has touched every single piece of food in the fridge. So at least one thing in here’s been tampered with. He’s put vanilla pudding in the mayonnaise, or marshmallows in the milk, or…” 

“You are paranoid,” Bucky said. 

“You just don’t know Tony very well yet,” Steve said. “It’s not paranoia when he really is out to get you.” 

* * *

 

“Someone is going to die,” Natasha declared, setting the exploded **candle** down in the middle of the kitchen table, smiling that icy, terrifying smile. 

“What the utter hell?” Tony asked, shifting his chair back. That was not one of his pranks. Not even close. He was kind of curious as to how they’d managed it, though. The whole candle (which reeked of burned sugar) had combusted. 

“ _Someone_ drilled a hole in my candle. Replaced the wick, and filled the entire inside with Pop Rocks,” Natasha explained, still cool, calm, collected. Tony noticed that her hair was damp. Oh, oh, fuck, it was one of the candles she liked to use while she was in the tub? Oh, fuck, they were all going to die. 

“Wasn’t me,” Tony said, hastily, pushing even further back from the table. 

Natasha smiled again, tilting her head to the other side and observing him like he was an interesting science experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong.

“That’s _brilliant_ ,” Bucky said, picking up the candle and peering into the depths of the exploded, twisted wax. 

“Sure,” Steve said, Captain America thinks you’re an asshole voice in full effect. “If you want to chase people around with flaming sugar.” 

“No, seriously, Steve, think of the level of distraction something like this would have, I can think of at least fifteen good uses for this in a combat situation, this is fucking _genius_ ,” Bucky said.

“Hey, hey!” Tony protested. “Do not say that word when she’s that pissed off. I like breathing, thank you very much.” 

“What word? Distraction?” 

“Genius.” 

* * *

 

Bruce, who hadn’t even been home when the prank war started, got hit by two pretend bug pranks (a paper roach silhouette on a lamp that actually caused him to knock over a chair and the spider drawn on the toilet paper which precipitated a Hulk out and the need for bathroom repairs. Again.) and one of the food pranks within twenty-four hours of getting back to the Tower. 

Tony was pretty sure Bruce had enlisted Strange’s help for his revenge, because Tony woke up -- naked, of course -- in Bucky’s bed. And from the screaming the floor below, Clint had the same experience, only in Steve’s. 

Not that Tony minded, entirely. Bucky was damn good looking. He was also warm, and apparently cuddly, because Tony woke up in a vice-grip spoon position and while trying to wriggle himself free ended up with morning wood pressed tight up against his ass. 

 _Oh, god, this… this was going to be bad, as soon as Bucky woke up._ Tony was going to get smeared across the **landscape** by an angry, naked supersoldier. 

Bucky woke up as soon as Clint started shrieking like a little kid -- really, Barton? Really? Tony knew that supersoldiers had enhanced, well, everything, because he could feel the everything pressed hard against his thigh -- but it probably wasn’t that tragic. 

Bucky froze for a second, arms tightening almost painfully as he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. Tony held his breath, waiting to die. And then, Bucky tucked his nose into Tony’s hair, inhaled deep. “Hey there,” he said, his voice low and throaty, and when Tony craned his neck around to see, Bucky was giving him a pair of needy, bedroom eyes. 

“Hi,” Tony said, awkward, and at the same time, a little overwhelmed. What the hell had he been smoking? 

“This is a nice surprise,” Bucky said, rocking up against Tony in slow, steady and almost entirely instinctual motions. 

What? “What?” Tony asked because… weird, scary assassin guy. With memory problems and psychological issues, who barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Steve, and certainly not _Tony_. 

For just an instant, and if Tony hadn’t been looking right at him, he would have missed it, there was a flicker of hurt and uncertainty in Bucky’s eyes. Then it cleared up and Bucky gave Tony a wide grin, the sort of smile that lit the room up, that had made Bucky famous back in the day, and that drove a spear of _wanting_ so deep into Tony’s gut that he almost couldn’t breathe.   

“Oh,” Bucky said. He blinked a few times. “I was dreamin’, an’ then here you were. Not on purpose, I’m guessin’.” He let Tony go, arms loosening their grip slow and reluctant. 

Tony blinked. “You were dreaming about me?” 

Bucky gave him an almost sad, helpless little smile. “Always dream about you, Tony,” he said. 

Tony gaped, and then, “Is this like the end of the prank? You --” 

“No, no, fuck, no, I wouldn’t do that,” Bucky protested. There was, however, a flash of guilt in those steel-gray eyes. Bucky scrambled out of the bed and started looking for his clothes, but whoever was up to the nudity pranking had stolen all of those, too. And the towels. There was one set of bedsheets and three floors between Bucky’s room and the Penthouse. Tony didn’t watch; Bucky might have had some of the longest fucking legs and the nicest goddamn ass Tony had ever seen, but it wasn’t his right to look at it. Not… not like this. 

Okay, so Natasha had gotten in on this one, too, and he wouldn’t at all shocked if there were cameras (or an audience) outside the door. Tony was usually comfortable in his own body; god knows, enough one night stands had seen it, enough paparazzi had photographed it. But he usually wasn’t fighting a sense that people were laughing at him, and this…   

Tony sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done an utterly naked walk of shame -- head held high, hands held low -- but this would at least be the most disappointing, since he hadn’t done anything. He fingered the sheet. It would make a good enough toga, he supposed, if Bucky would let him take it. He didn’t say anything, there was nothing to say. 

There had been a lot of pranks going on in the Tower, and that was fine, pranks were fun. They were a mostly harmless way of blowing off steam and they’d always before backed down before someone got hurt. But this… this was hurtful. 

“Tony.” 

“What? Give me a minute, I’ll figure out some way to get back to the Penthouse and --” 

“I don’t prank like that,” Bucky said, sincere. He sat back down on the bed and didn’t bother trying to cover up, just folded up on himself, graceful and comfortable in his skin. “You’ve seen my pranks. I would never, ever do something to… I wouldn’t lie to you about feelings. That would be cruel.” 

Wait, what? 

Tony tried to back up, stumbling over his thoughts. “What do you mean, I’ve seen your pranks.” 

Bucky ducked his chin a little, that tiny half-smile painted over his mouth. “All of them. That’s all been me. The glitter in your car, the water-trap. Tash’s exploding candle. Clint’s radical hair-color change.” 

“Wait, you’ve been waging a prank war on the _entire Tower_ all at once?” 

Bucky gave a shrug. “Thought it might… loosen things up a bit,” he said. “But I wouldn’t… I’d never do anything to hurt anyone. Especially not you.” 

“Why especially me?” Did Bucky think he was weak, or something? 

Bucky leaned forward a little bit more, brushed a strand of hair out of Tony’s face. “Because I _like_ you,” he said, apparently sincere. 

 _Do you like me, or do you_ like _me?_ That sounded weirdly fifth-grade, so Tony didn’t give it voice. “Yeah?” He moved closer. 

“Yeah.” And Bucky’s mouth was so close to Tony’s that he could feel the shape of the words. 

Well, there wasn’t anything more to do with this particular prank… except fall for it. Tony crossed those last scant centimeters and let his mouth come down on Bucky’s. 

**Author's Note:**

> PS - pop rocks ARE flammable. and they absolutely will explode. PLEASE do not fuck with this without taking the utmost precautions, because they explode in random directions. (and by utmost precautions, I mean DON'T DO THIS. and I'm absolutely not taking the blame if you burn your garage down.)


End file.
